


George "Doggie" Balfour

by Rebelregun



Category: The Riot Club (2014)
Genre: Come Eating, Comeplay, Cunnilingus, F/M, Femdom, Gentle femdom, M/M, Masturbation, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebelregun/pseuds/Rebelregun





	George "Doggie" Balfour

"Ugh, I can feel the expectations. I'm itching already."

"So there would be no harm done if you we're late?" Alistair smiled and looked at George. He moved behind her, boxing her in lightly against the chair.

"No, I can't add any more fuel to the fire."

"We'd just like to relieve your stress, right George?"

"Stress, exactly."

Gwen leans back against Alistair briefly. She manages to steel herself.

"I just don't have time, boys. I have to change then call for the car." Gwen goes to her bed, re-checking everything.

Alistair moves behind her again but this time he kneels, and brings up his hands to rest on the backs of her knees. He doesn't dare go higher. George follows his lead to the end of the bed and waits.

Gwen stills at the touch of his warm hands. She straightens up, closes her eyes and exhales, letting every bit of breath out.

"I'm going to finish packing my bag. By the time I'm done, George, I want you down next to Alistair, stripped to your pants. Then, you both will wait." She pins George with her gaze and it sends a warm shiver down his spine. "Understood?"

George and Alistair answer, "Yes Ma'am."

"Go."

George feels another heated thrill as he removes his clothing. He looks over to Alistair as he settles on his knees, who's smile is all Cheshire as he too strips. Alistair returns his hands to the bare backs of her knees and the both of them lean in. Their moist, hot breaths making her thighs clench.

Gwen clears her throat and the boys snap back into position and school their faces. She slings the now full bag to the end of the bed. 

"Now. . ."

She mentally thanks whomever made the bed just the right height when she bends over. Her pleated skirt pulls up easily over her white pants covered arse. 

"Please, Ma'am." Alistair's breath and lips are just barely touching her cunt through her pants. Almost worthy of punishment if he makes contact without her permission. She grins and pushes back against his hands on her knees, forcing him to pull back. George and her share a laugh at that. She turns round enough to catch George's gaze and his sheepish grin.

She pats the bed in invitation and George eases himself up next to her. She snakes a hand into his hair and pulls him into a kiss. He's unsure of where to put his hands so he keeps them between them on the duvet. Gwen moves her warm hand down his neck, chest and stomach. With a moan he rolls his hips up toward her hand. Alistair squeezes the backs of her knees and huffs a hot sigh into her aching, pants-covered cunt. 

She moans and grins into the kiss, breaking away, keeping George close to her side. She twists onto her back, she can now see Alistair's flushed face and heated gaze. He licks his lower lip, rests his hands on tops of her thighs and trails his blunted nails lightly down and back again, sending tingles. She takes her tights-covered foot and glides it up his thigh, sighing at the feel of the hot and hard line of his cock. He groans and tightens his hands on her thighs. She sees and feels the tension in his body as he tries to hold himself still for her. 

"Such a patient boy for me."

"Of course, Ma'am. " His voice is thready with want, but there's an edge of sarcasm. She can never hear him say the title enough and increases the pressure of her foot's touch.

"Fuck, Ma'am." His head tilts back, panting. A punch of heat goes through Gwen and she moans at the feeling of wetness forming through his pants. George occupies himself by playing with the hem of Gwen's skirt, when that gains no reproach he bends forward to snuffle against her thighs and the edge of her pants. 

"George, you're such a naughty hound, aren't you..." She scruffed him by the hair on the nape of his neck and playfully tugged at it while he continued his journey toward the edge of her pants with a flushed face. He began nipping at the crotch of her soaked panties.George lifted up to remove her pants from underneath her skirt and peeled the pants down her legs and feet and dropped them on the floor. He settled back down, on his knees and between her legs. He hooked his arms underneath her thighs and parted her folds to give a long, heated lick up the center of her slit.

Gwen gasped at his velvet tongue and laced her fingers through his hair, tugging for his mouth to come closer. George heeded her urging and began alternating licking and sucking at her clit, slowly at first and then more urgently. Gwen moaned at the treatment her pussy was receiving, her clit throbbed and her skin tingled. Her slit began dripping with her sweet juices and his licking escalated as her renegade pussy began to melt and juices flowed down onto his probing tongue. With her clit poised under his diligent licking, her belly muscles quivered as she got closer and closer to coming.

Gwen felt like her pussy was being slowly dissolved by flickering tongue; it felt like slow motion explosions going off at her clit and blasting up her spine. The orgasm was so instense it seemed to short circuit her mind, leaving nothing but the kind blowing sensations of coming and coming while George's incredible tongue glided over her pulsating cunt.

"Take off your pants and wank for us, Alistair."

"Yes, Ma'am." Alistair pushed down his pants and threw his head back in a sigh as he took hold of his hard cock and began to stroke slowly from base to tip. His cock pulsed convulsively, shooting sudden hot spurts of come. He writhed and heaved, sticky jets spurting, his hand slowed down, milking jets of warm come. 

George gives one last brush of his tongue to her clit and smooths a hand through Alistair's mess, barely cooled and bitter on his tongue. Gwen helps him, catching more come smeared at the corner of his mouth and placed it delicately on his tongue.


End file.
